CHAPTER 35
Simon’s wrists were already bleeding by the time Lang dragged him out of the detainment center and toward the administration building. He could hardly feel his legs but stumbled along, tripping regularly, barely able to sense where his feet were in relation to the rest of him. Camp 22’s Chief Officer was already addressing the crowds when the throng of prisoners came into view, a gray mass against the backdrop of a drab, cloudy day. “It is the joyful, patriotic duty of every member of this great nation to commemorate the birthday of our beloved Eternal President, who saved us from Western aggressors and constantly provided for us out of his own benevolence and extreme generosity.”
Simon thought back to his own childhood, when he had sung songs of Kim Il-Sung’s preeminence with
